


Multi-Faceted

by partypaprika



Category: Hidden Legacy Series - Ilona Andrews
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:34:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22595617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/partypaprika/pseuds/partypaprika
Summary: “Do you know where you are?” Augustine asked.“Dr. Daniela Arias’s offices?” Cornelius asked. If he’d expected, or even hoped, for praise from Augustine, he would have been disappointed. Augustine’s glare, if it was even possible (and Cornelius wasn’t entirely sure that it was), deepened.“Yes,” Augustine said and his voice was so sharp, he could have cut stone with it. “And let me tell you how I found out that you have two broken ribs, whiplash, a concussion, a broken arm and let’s not forget internal bleeding. Did I find out from the Baylors notifying me immediately? No. Did I find out from your sister or brother calling me? No. I found out on the news, along with half the population of Houston.”
Relationships: Cornelius Harrison/Augustine Montgomery
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Multi-Faceted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anticyclone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anticyclone/gifts).



> anticyclone, I hope that you enjoy!

Cornelius woke up in a whisper-soft white room, gently-lit, and Augustine Montgomery sitting next to him glaring at Cornelius with the collective and impressive fury of House Montgomery.

Cornelius tried to speak, but his throat rasped painfully. Without missing a beat, Augustine maneuvered Cornelius into a sitting position and tipped a small cup of blessedly cool water into Cornelius’s mouth. He glared at Cornelius the entire time but he waited until Cornelius had finished drinking before speaking. It was truly incredible, Cornelius thought, that Augustine managed to look so angry and so beautiful. Knowing Augustine, he had probably practiced this look in the mirror.

“Do you know where you are?” Augustine asked.

The lack of clothing, needle-inserted IV and cast on his left arm pointed to being in a hospital or medical facility. Talon, perched near a small window that Cornelius couldn’t see out of, said that they were in a three-story building with beige paint, multiple windows and people in scrubs inside. There was an almost complete lack of pain, despite the fact that he’d been in a very serious car accident.

“Dr. Daniela Arias’s offices?” Cornelius asked. If he’d expected, or even hoped, for praise from Augustine, he would have been disappointed. Augustine’s glare, if it was even possible (and Cornelius wasn’t entirely sure that it was), deepened.

“Yes,” Augustine said and his voice was so sharp, he could have cut stone with it. “And let me tell you how I found out that you have two broken ribs, whiplash, a concussion, a broken arm and let’s not forget internal bleeding. Did I find out from the Baylors notifying me immediately? No. Did I find out from your sister or brother calling me? No. I found out on the news, along with half the population of Houston.”

“Ah,” Cornelius said. He blinked a few times. Augustine was clearly angry. “And that is upsetting,” he said cautiously.

“Exceedingly upsetting,” Augustine agreed. He didn’t elaborate further.

“It is upsetting,” Cornelius repeated as he thought through why Augustine might be upset. Talon chimed in to the rescue. _He is upset because he is part of your pack_. Ah.

“It is upsetting because we are friends and as a friend, you would want to hear it directly. Instead of from a news source.” 

“Yes,” Augustine said and then he glared at Talon for good measure, as if he had understood what Talon had communicated. Cornelius was reasonably certain that Augustine didn’t possess any animal magic. However, with Augustine one never knew. Just like Augustine getting upset about being the last to find out about Cornelius’s injuries.

“I will make sure that everyone knows that you should be informed as soon as possible in the event that something happens in the future,” Cornelius said, hoping that would end the matter. Augustine was likely to continue to be upset by this, but Cornelius would tackle that when he got to it.

Augustine bristled. “I have already informed everyone that I should be told immediately if anything happens to you,” he said. “I will also be staying with you while you recuperate. The doctor has said that you can be discharged this afternoon into my supervision—your sister has Matilda and will bring her over once you’ve gotten home.

Cornelius blinked some more. Did Augustine just say that he was going to be staying over at Cornelius’s? That made no sense. Cornelius opened his mouth and Augustine glared so hard, Cornelius was worried about the strain to Augustine’s eyes. “Yes?” Augustine ground out. Cornelius wasn’t sure that he’d ever heard Augustine so angry before.

Time to change tact. “Regina Vodell and Mike Church?” Cornelius asked. He’d begun an investigation on behalf of one of their clients, a woman who ran a medium-sized medical equipment manufacturing facility in Houston. She’d received disturbing messages and hate mail at home and the facility centered around her leaving the business. At first, it had seemed like nothing, but then they’d begun escalating—threatening real harm and knowing the real time actions of her and her family. She’d come to Baylor Investigations for help and Cornelius had taken it on.

A few weeks of digging had led to Regina Vodell and Mike Church, owners of a Dallas-based medical manufacturing facility trying to enter the Houston market. Apparently they wanted her out, now, and were willing to engage in a hostile takeover if she didn’t leave on her own. They hadn’t liked it when Cornelius had tracked them down and found enough evidence to turn over to the police, tying the two of them to the harassment and threats. To say that they’d reacted poorly would have been a mild understatement.

“Arrested, criminal charges have been pressed against them on your behalf. A civil suit will be filed against them.” There was a slight growl undertone in Augustine’s voice, like he’d preferred it if they hadn’t been behind bars so he could enact some retribution personally.

Cornelius raised an eyebrow as a warmth spread through him at Augustine’s words. It wasn’t like Cornelius thought little of Augustine. On the contrary—Cornelius thought very highly of Augustine. But, he didn’t expect this protective streak. And Augustine never wanted to get his hands dirty. He had people to do that for him. It was odd and mildly unsettling for a reason that Cornelius couldn’t pinpoint.

“I’m happy to hear it,” Cornelius said. Before he could try to navigate this labyrinth set of landmines of Augustine, Dr. Arias came in and thankfully distracted Augustine’s ire away.

Dr. Arias read a small encyclopedia of instructions and concerns out to Cornelius and Augustine. Augustine looked like he was committing it to his deepest memory (he’d looked halfway tempted to start taking notes) and when she was finished, Dr. Arias sighed, a long-suffering look on her face, and allowed that Cornelius could leave her care.

“If you don’t follow my instructions,” she said. “I will know, because you will be right back in here. And I don’t like it when people don’t follow my instructions.”

“Understood,” Cornelius said.

Despite Cornelius’s protestations—yes, he admitted that he had multiple injuries, but nothing was wrong with his _legs_ —Dr. Arias insisted that Cornelius be wheeled out to the parking lot. Augustine took charge, directing them out to a subtle looking black Porsche that Cornelius could tell from his time with Frida was heavily reinforced and modified.

“What happened to the silver one?” Cornelius asked once he was settled inside, one of Dr. Arias’s employees cheerily waving goodbye to them.

“I was in a small accident last week,” Augustine said. “Just a few scratches to the car, but it’s in the shop being fixed.”

Cornelius was reasonably certain that Augustine was lying—but about what? If he pushed it now though, Augustine would clam up and dig his heels in further.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Cornelius said. “How are you coping with the loss?”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

When they arrived home, Augustine opened the car door and looked half-tempted to carry Cornelius in. “I am fine,” Cornelius said firmly. After all, it wasn’t a long walk—it was maybe thirty feet from the car to the house, with a set of small stairs at the end. Augustine pursed his lips but didn’t say anything.

Unfortunately, once Cornelius made it up the half-dozen set of stairs and to the house door, he felt almost out of breath with how much work it had taken. But if he said anything about it now, he knew that Augustine would never let him live it down. So, aware of Augustine’s careful eyes on him, Cornelius made his way through the foyer and into the living room where then allowed himself the luxury of sitting down.

Seeing Cornelius sitting down, at rest, seemed to relax Augustine and for the first time all day, Augustine smiled. 

“Oh yes, I can see that you definitely don’t need my help,” Augustine said, his tone amused, and he grabbed a few pillows to put behind Cornelius. “I guess I’ll just go and make lunch for myself since you’re fine on your own.”

Cornelius mock-glared at Augustine. “What are you making?”

“I guess you’ll just have to find out,” he said and then disappeared into the kitchen.

After about twenty minutes of listening to Augustine open doors in the kitchen, move around pots and pans and crinkle various plastic packages, Cornelius’s curiosity got the better of him. He slowly moved into the kitchen, pleasantly surprised to see Augustine making what looked like grilled cheese sandwiches, while a large bowl of salad had been prepared and was waiting on the counter.

Cornelius allowed himself a long moment to watch Augustine’s long lines. His body was so powerful, so functional, it took Cornelius’s breath away sometimes. Augustine in all forms was always beautiful. It had been many years since he’d seen Augustine without his magic sheathing himself, but he’d been gorgeous in his unguarded moments. Cornelius wondered if Augustine allowed himself to ever be seen without magic these days.

Cornelius cleared his throat after a minute, not wanting to be rude. Augustine whipped around at the noise, relaxing when he saw that it was Cornelius.

“Good, I’m almost done,” Augustine said and then refused all help (not that Cornelius felt confident he could have actually provided it) bringing the food back out to the living room.

They ate lunch on the couch, Augustine sitting on Cornelius’s good side, almost close enough to be touching. Cornelius filled Augustine in on the non-confidential specifics of the case that had landed him in the hospital and then Augustine filled Cornelius in on some of MII’s recent cases.

The next thing that Cornelius knew, he lay on the couch, a blanket covering him and a firm pillow under his head. When Cornelius shifted, he realized that it wasn’t a pillow underneath him, but instead Augustine’s thighs. Cornelius opened his eyes and blinked up at Augustine, who was reading above him on Camille de Grandkirch, one of the inventors of the Osiris serum.

Augustine looked down, his gaze fond. “Go back to sleep,” he said quietly but firmly. “Matilda won’t be here for a few more hours when school gets out.”

“Ok,” Cornelius said and then let sleep lull him back under.

Cornelius woke up, his body groggy with fatigue, to the sound of Diana’s and Augustine’s voices coming from the kitchen. He pushed himself up slowly, everything hurting since the pain medication from that morning had worn down over the last few hours, and very tenderly made his way over to the kitchen.

Diana and Matilda sat at the kitchen table, a plate of cut celery with peanut butter in front of Matilda that she absent-mindedly reached for as she watched Augustine who was moving around the kitchen, gathering the ingredients for what looked like yet another snack.

“She probably shouldn’t eat anything aside from the celery and peanut butter,” Cornelius said. Matilda flashed Cornelius a slightly guilty look, but then she was up and running to Cornelius, carefully throwing her arms around him, her face filled relief. Bunny followed not far behind, as watchful as a nanny.

“Aunt Diana said that you were in a car accident,” Matilda said. Cornelius looked over Matilda’s head to Diana to gauge if he should share the particulars about the car accident. Diana looked over to Augustine, who shook his head slightly. Cornelius always tried to be honest with Matilda, but Augustine’s point of discretion was well-taken.

“Yes, I was in a bad car accident,” Cornelius said. Matilda pulled back to look at Cornelius, her face white with worry. “But, I’m going to get better. And Augustine will be here to help me as I recover.”

Matilda looked over at Augustine, and although her face still looked concerned, something about Augustine eased some of the worry in her face. She looked down at Bunny and then back at Cornelius before nodding and hugging him again. Eventually she let go of Cornelius and went back to the table, Edwina the racoon sitting next to Bunny by her feet.

Once Matilda was seated, Diana came in for a very cautious hug, keeping her arms well away from any of Cornelius’s injuries. “I’m glad that you’re ok, Cornelius,” she said. “I can’t say that I was altogether happy to receive a phone call from Catalina about you.”

“If it makes you feel better, I wasn’t altogether happy about what had happened when I woke up,” Cornelius said and Diana smiled at that, her face going soft. Cornelius could feel Augustine watching, a reserve in his eyes. Was he upset? Angry? Simply hungry? For not the last time, Cornelius felt a sort of impatience with himself and his ability to understand the humans around him. Cornelius understood animals—he could hear their wants and needs and know that it made perfect sense. Affection, hate, hunger, contentment all were openly expressed if one knew how to watch the signs. Humans, especially a human like Augustine, could hide so much. But wishing for something wasn’t going to make it happen, so he squeezed Augustine’s shoulder once Diana joined Matilda at the table, trying to impart some reassurance through touch. 

Diana didn’t stay much longer after that, having a Prime function to attend in the evening. Diana looked peeved at it. “And Blake, if you can believe it, got out of it by planning a trip to New York for an animal mage conference. I can’t believe he did that. I wish that I’d thought of it first.” Diana sighed and then looked at the time. “Alright, I really have to go. Augustine, take good of my brother.”

“As if I would do anything less,” Augustine said smoothly and Diana looked at him, her head cocked. Some communication must have traveled between them, because Diana smiled at Augustine, bright, and then squeezed Cornelius’s shoulder and gave Matilda a hug where her celery was in process of being devoured.

The three of them had a quiet dinner of shrimp tacos and salad, again made by Augustine. Cornelius could admit that he was surprised. “I’m very impressed,” Cornelius said after they’d finished and Matilda had run up to her room, trailed by Bunny and Edwina.

“With what?” Augustine asked. “My incredible good looks? My devastating intellect? My immense power?”

“I was going to say your cooking skills, but considering all of that, I think that perhaps your cooking should be better,” Cornelius said. Augustine mock glared at him.

Cornelius yawned and Augustine’s gaze sharpened. “You should probably go up to bed,” he said.

Cornelius wanted to protest but everything hurt, despite the pain medicine he’d taken during dinner, and he was so tired. “Is that an order or a suggestion?” he asked, already standing up.

“Which will get you to do it?” Augustine asked, standing as well, their bodies close enough for Cornelius to think about what it would be like to lean into Augustine’s solid warmth. “I’m not above a little bribery,” Augustine said and now his voice was close enough to Cornelius’s ear for Cornelius to feel Augustine’s breath.

Cornelius shivered and stumbled, his body misinterpreting stimuli, but before he could do much more than flail, Augustine stepped in, bracketing Cornelius’s body with his own and holding him tight, but carefully, cautious of Cornelius’s arm.

“I’ve got you,” Augustine said, his voice ever so slightly hoarse. Cornelius’s mind, unbidden, ran though a plethora of possibilities for how Augustine could have meant that, ranging from carnally to platonically. There was a non-zero likelihood that Augustine meant it in a more-than-friendly manner, which was an idea that Cornelius hadn’t thought Augustine would have been open to. Any path that deviated from their normal friendship required deliberation and analysis. Even knowing that, Cornelius didn’t make any move to leave the safety of Augustine’s arms until Augustine took a deep breath and then slowly returned Cornelius to balance.

Cornelius turned to watch Augustine. But it was too late for any truths to be revealed on Augustine’s face. Unsurprisingly, Augustine’s face reflected his usual neutral manner.

“Thank you,” Cornelius said haltingly. Augustine inclined his head at Cornelius. “I’ll do my best to make it upstairs without ending up horizontal—or rather, without falling,” Cornelius said. There was no mistaking the slight blush creeping across Augustine’s face, although that disappeared after a second. Additional information for Cornelius to think about.

Augustine carefully followed Cornelius up to his room and assured him that he’d put Matilda to bed. “It’s not the first time that I’ve put a nine-year-old to sleep,” he said. “I’ll be in the guest room right down the hall, so let me know if you need anything.”

And—right, sleeping arrangements. Cornelius almost laughed at himself. Of course, Augustine would need somewhere to sleep. “Thank you so much,” Cornelius said. “You’ve taken care of everything. Thank you. Thank you for being here.”

Augustine looked surprised. “Of—of course,” he said eventually. “I’m happy to help.”

Alone in his room, Cornelius let out a deep breath. When he’d thought about going to bed, he’d envisioned taking a shower. Maybe even letting himself take time to commune with Zeus and his other animals who he’d only manage to reassure in brief moments throughout the day. However, just taking off his pants turned out to be more than a little tricky and painful. For one moment Cornelius thought about calling Augustine back. But asking Augustine to help him remove his pants or other clothes seemed perhaps outside the bounds of normal friendship, so Cornelius grunted and bore the pain, finally getting them off with a particularly agonizing clench.

At that point, he was so tired, he kept on his shirt, crawled under the covers and let himself immediately fall asleep.

When Cornelius woke in the morning, more clear-headed but also more aware of his aches and injuries, he saw Matilda curled up on her side on the bed next to him, her dark brown hair fanning out on the pillow beneath her head. Cornelius couldn’t help but smile—asleep, she looked so adorable. Almost all mammals had strong relationships with their young, but Cornelius felt so much love and affection for Matilda, it overwhelmed him at times.

Matilda rarely slept anymore in Cornelius’s bed. When she was younger, she would often creep into bed with Nari and Cornelius in the early hours of the morning and sleep with them until they had to wake up for the day.

After Nari had been killed, Matilda had gone though a phase where when they were at the house, she would only sleep in Cornelius’s bed, needing the reassurance of his presence. Eventually she had shifted back to her own bed, but had still come and joined him every morning for a few hours. As she got older, she’d come into Cornelius’s room less. It had been a while since she’d slept in Cornelius’s bed at all and as Cornelius watched her sleep, he felt absurdly fond.

Cornelius checked his watch—it wasn’t yet seven a.m., so there was no need to wake Matilda up for school quite that early, and Cornelius didn’t feel particularly inclined to get out of bed, enjoying the moment with his daughter. With nothing else to do, he found himself thinking about Augustine instead.

He first asked himself how he thought about Augustine. There was no denying that he found Augustine attractive. He was strong and protective, always looking out for Cornelius. Even if his magic were to fail tomorrow, Augustine would guard his own family fiercely and Cornelius now knew that Augustine considered Cornelius to be part of his. Cornelius had always found Augustine beautiful and the recent quickening of his pulse at the thought that Augustine may be interested in him indicated that his body was not averse to the idea of sleeping with Augustine.

With that in mind, Cornelius turned towards Augustine’s intentions. With Nari, she had always been clear about her interest in Cornelius from the start, so Cornelius had only needed to look at her behavior in the frame of a romantic partner. Augustine had been a friend, a close one, but a friend for a long time now. It was not impossible for friendship to become something more than friendship, but Cornelius didn’t want to embarrass Augustine or lose his friendship if Cornelius had misinterpreted Augustine’s behavior.

Cornelius thought about Augustine’s recent behavior. He had held Cornelius close, although that was in response to a fall. Protecting a friend was natural and normal and not alone indicative of romantic intent. Augustine had made Cornelius and Matilda food, perhaps indicating a desire to provide for them and show romantic intent that way. But friends also cook for each other, to support each other as part of the same pack, to provide for others of their species where they are able. The same went for Augustine’s forceful response to finding out about Cornelius’s injuries and his insistence upon taking care of Cornelius.

Individually, each of those actions could be that of a friend. However, taken together, on the aggregate, Augustine’s actions seemed to reflect a desire for a romantic relationship. Cornelius decided that it bore further confirmation before action.

Eventually, he woke up Matilda to get ready for school, Matilda yawning as he sent her off to her room to get dressed. Cornelius managed to get on a pair of pants but after a few throbbing contortions, his ribs protesting painfully, he decided to tackle a new shirt at a later time.

When Cornelius and Matilda got downstairs, Cornelius already resigned to Matilda getting a breakfast of easily compiled cereal, Augustine was down in the kitchen cooking away at the stove. Cornelius must have looked suitably shocked as Augustine looked especially smug as he plated a bunch of pancakes for Matilda.

“Banana pancakes,” he said.

Matilda’s eyes opened wide. “I love banana pancakes!” she said, immediately picking up the plate along with a fork, knife and the syrup that Augustine had set out handily on the counter. Another piece of evidence for the attraction pile?

“You didn’t have to do this,” Cornelius said. “But thank you again.”

“I was up anyways,” Augustine said dismissively. “I had a call for work that I needed to take care of.”

“Are you going to go in today?” Cornelius said. “I’ll be fine here—no exploding cars for me.”

“It’s taken care of,” Augustine said simply and plated another stack of pancakes, as if a distraction. “Let’s eat.”

After Matilda was picked up for school, Augustine turned a critical eye to Cornelius. “You should have told me that you needed help getting dressed and undressed.” Cornelius had a very vivid image of Augustine carefully pulling Cornelius’s shirt over his head, their bodies pressed close together. Another image of Augustine kneeling as he unbuttoned Cornelius’s pants and slowly slid them down. Cornelius immediately felt his body have a very physical reaction.

“Is it that obvious?” Cornelius asked eventually, aware that his voice was a little rough.

“I do run one of the largest investigation companies in the country,” Augustine said, a little insulted. “And you’re wearing the same shirt as yesterday. If I can’t put that two and two together to get four, I don’t deserve to be an investigator.”

He sounded so affronted that Cornelius couldn’t help but laugh. “Then yes, I do need your help,” Cornelius managed eventually.

Over the next few days, Cornelius and Augustine settled into a pattern. In the mornings, Cornelius would wake up Matilda and they would head downstairs where Augustine would cook a delicious breakfast. Matilda would head off for school and Augustine and Cornelius would stay home. Cornelius was still exhausted and he found himself taking naps throughout the day as Augustine worked next to him on the couch. Whenever Cornelius asked about work, Augustine repeated that it was taken care of, refusing to say anything more on the matter.

It became a comfortable routine for Cornelius to wake up half-draped over Augustine or pressed against Augustine. Each time, Cornelius tried to scrutinize Augustine’s face or body for a hint of what he felt, but Augustine, as always, kept his thoughts close to the shelf.

When the weekend rolled around, Diana asked if she could take Matilda for a sleepover for Friday evening, so Augustine drove Cornelius and Matilda over to Diana’s house, leaving behind an excited Matilda, eager to hang out with her aunt and her animals.

On the way back, Cornelius got a call from Catalina. Catalina, Nevada and various other members of the Baylor clan had stopped by throughout the week, always bearing food. Cornelius loved the Baylors deeply—he would always owe them a debt for Nari, but beyond that, they treated them like family and he was happy to call them his family as well.

“Hello Catalina,” Cornelius said.

“Hi Cornelius,” Catalina said, her voice warm. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Cornelius said, “The broken arm will take a while to heal, but I think that I should be good to return to work in the next week or two.”

Augustine glared hard at Cornelius for that. Overprotectiveness again. Another sign?

“Take as much time as you need!” Catalina said. “And that’s not at all why I was calling. We’re all going over to Linus’s for dinner tonight and I wanted to know if you and Augustine would like to join us.”

Cornelius could feel Augustine bristle next to him. When Cornelius looked over at him, Augustine’s jaw was set firmly, but at Cornelius’s raised eyebrow, Augustine made a shooing motion to indicate that Cornelius should do whatever he wanted.

“If you don’t want to…” Cornelius said in a low voice.

“No, it’s fine,” Augustine said.

“We would love to join you,” Cornelius said slowly into the phone.

“Great! I will let Linus know,” Catalina said. “He loves you—he’s going to be so pleased.”

After Cornelius hung up, he looked at Augustine. “We don’t have to go.”

“It’s fine,” Augustine said. “Linus is a very important and well-connected man in Texas and the United States Prime community. Building up a relationship with him is important.”

“But?” Cornelius prompted.

“But, he is a very dangerous man,” Augustine said simply and left it at that.

Augustine wasn’t wrong. Linus was a very dangerous man, Cornelius felt confident thinking later that evening. Augustine and Cornelius had arrived at 7 p.m., just after most of the Baylors had arrived, Nevada and Rogan arriving a little bit later than the rest. They’d assembled in Linus’s beautiful outdoor seating area in time to watch the sun set and been presented with an intensely large spread of Linus’s barbeque and more salsa, queso and guacamole than anyone could consume in a lifetime.

Augustine didn’t lose his wariness throughout dinner despite Linus’s ease and good-manners and the joviality of the Baylors. Even Rogan seemed to be in a good mood, pressed close to Nevada and gently ribbing Augustine. All of it lulled Cornelius into a false sense of security. If only he’d known what danger lay ahead.

After dinner, Linus brought out a cart of various scotches and whiskeys, insisting that everyone try some. He also challenged Catalina to a game of shuffleboard. Apparently, he had a whole set of games in his backyard that seemed like overkill but that he assured the group was used quite regularly.

And that was where the trouble began. Rogan’s ribbing turned into teasing about athletic prowess, with Augustine biting back, and Linus taking it all in, a bemused look on his face.

“Why don’t we settle this with a friendly game between the two of you?” Linus asked. “How about a friendly game of darts—no magic, just skill.”

“Hardly seems worth it,” Augustine said and Rogan’s face lit up as if he’d been waiting for that.

“What if the loser drinks a shot from Linus’s impressive alcohol selection?” Rogan said.

“Are we back in college?” Augustine said dismissively.

“Why? Are you afraid to lose like you did in college?” Rogan said. Next to him, Nevada groaned and put her face in her hands.

“Guys, I hardly think that’s necessary,” Nevada said, but it was too late, Augustine was already standing up.

“I will decimate you,” Augustine said, his voice low and hand clenched around his glass.

“I’d like to see you try,” Rogan said, just as seriously. That was where the mistake had been made. Neither Augustine or Rogan could allow themselves to lose face or a battle in front of the other, no matter how insignificant.

At first, all had seemed to go fine—Augustine and Rogan took to the dart board to get their aggression worked out. Cornelius, who felt no desire to prove anything to anyone, chatted with Bern about his recent upgrades to the Baylor Investigation online resources. From there they moved on to Frida’s most recent upgrades to Romeo. That car got more love from Frida than most people had in their entire life. 

“I heard that Augustine upgraded his car after you got into the accident,” Bern said, conversationally.

Cornelius’s attention immediately tracked to Augustine, who was angrily finishing his glass before throwing another dart, and then back to Bern. “Did he replace his usual car with a new one—more reinforcements?”

“Yeah,” Bern said. “I can’t imagine that his old version was in bad shape, but I saw the new car when he came to Dr. Arias’s offices. It’s top of the line.”

Interesting.

Around ten, exhaustion rolled over Cornelius and he looked around to find Augustine. As he watched Augustine and Rogan, still playing darts, he realized that three quarters of Linus’s bottle of twenty-one-year-old Hibiki whisky, placed next to Augustine’s glass, was gone. It had been close to full when they started…right?

“Are they going to be alright?” Cornelius asked Catalina, who had long since returned from shuffleboard. Unfortunately, Augustine’s magic allowed no insights into his state of being. He’d had a lot of alcohol and not much to temper it with. Linus stood nearby, watching Augustine and Rogan play their nth game of darts with a critical look in his eye.

“Yes,” Catalina said. “Well, probably. Linus is very persuasive when it comes to alcohol.” She grimaced. “Well, he’ll probably put a stop to it before they kill themselves.”

Cornelius stood up and walked over to Augustine who was gripping the side of his glass so tightly, his fingers were white.

“How are you doing?” Cornelius asked.

“I have never been better,” Augustine said, his voice extremely loud and his speech more than a little slurred, glaring at Rogan. “I will beat Rogan.”

“Whatever you say, Pancakes,” Rogan said smugly.

“Big words for a man who lost the last two games,” Augustine said proudly and he leaned back to throw the dart in his hand. The dart came off fine, but Augustine’s body swayed precariously, Cornelius immediately gripping Augustine with his good hand.

“Maybe we should think about heading out,” Cornelius suggested gently. Augustine reached down and grabbed the glass in front of him, downing the not-insignificant-amount of brown liquid in it.

“Yes,” Augustine said. “We will leave now. Immediately.” He threw a scorching glare at Rogan, whose grin got even wider.

“Is that how it is?” Rogan said, continuing some conversation with Augustine that Cornelius couldn’t parse.

“Immediately,” Augustine said and then started to whip around, seeming to forget that he was both in Cornelius’s arms and that he had no sense of balance, collapsing almost entirely against Cornelius, as if they were in a hug.

“Come on,” Cornelius said softly into Augustine’s ear. Augustine relaxed against Cornelius and Cornelius just let himself hold Augustine. It was…nice. More than nice. Although Cornelius hadn’t been looking for confirmation of his own feelings, he found it was good to have them all the same. “Let’s go home, Augustine.”

If Cornelius had hoped that the drive home would sober up Augustine, he was sorely disappointed. If anything, Augustine seemed to get even drunker as they drove. “Why do you work for the Baylors?” Augustine asked angrily. “You could work for me.”

“Because the Baylors’ business is a good fit for me,” Cornelius said gently even though he doubted that the words would penetrate through Augustine’s haze. “And I don’t wish to impose on you.”

“You could never impose on me!”

Cornelius tried not keep his lips from betraying his amusement. “I’m glad to know that,” he said.

When they got home, Cornelius came around to help Augustine who’d managed to find difficulty with the seatbelt buckle release. Augustine draped himself around Cornelius, and it made Cornelius laugh even more, much to Augustine’s chagrin, although though he didn’t let go. Somewhat amazingly, Augustine’s glamour was still holding, despite everything else, perhaps out of sheer stubborn will and determination.

After they made it inside, Cornelius made Augustine drink several glasses of water, though that did little to dent Augustine’s inebriation. When Cornelius deemed Augustine at a slightly lesser chance of a hangover, he took Augustine to Augustine’s room and carefully placed some ibuprofen on the nightstand next to the bed.

“Goodnight,” Cornelius said and closed Augustine’s door. Once in his own room, he looked down with despair at his own clothing. Getting pants off wasn’t getting to be too bad, but shirts were still difficult. After an extended struggle, Cornelius finally got off his clothing and pants and down to his boxer briefs when Augustine burst through Cornelius’s door, completely surprising him.

For a long minute, neither of them said anything, Cornelius shocked into silence and Augustine staring at Cornelius, his face determined. Just when Augustine seemed like he might say something, Zeus came pounding in, obviously alerted by the loud noise. Augustine didn’t even notice, focused as he was on Cornelius.

“It’s alright, Zeus,” Cornelius said. “You can leave, we are fine for now.” Zeus growled a few times to indicate his view on the situation before he left. “What’s going on?” Cornelius asked Augustine slowly.

Augustine’s face, now bright-red, finally looked away from Cornelius’s body and towards the opposite side of the room. “I came to check on you,” he said too loudly. “I think that I should sleep in here tonight.”

Cornelius stopped short. “I don’t think that’s necessary,” he said slowly.

“I want to sleep in here tonight,” Augustine said just as loudly as before.

Cornelius couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable in the guest bedroom. If my safety is your concern, I promise you that I’ll be fine.”

Augustine set his jaw. Cornelius mentally shrugged. “Alright, you are welcome to stay here tonight.” Almost before Cornelius got it out, Augustine started stripping, dumping his clothing across the room, paring down to his own boxer briefs and showcasing a perfect specimen of humanity. He crawled under the covers and then glared at Cornelius, who was watching him with open curiosity.

“Are you coming?” Augustine asked, more than a touch of petulance to his voice. Oh, how Cornelius wished that he could record this for later—in all of their time as friends, he’d never seen Augustine like this and it was amusing beyond all belief.

“Yes, but just to be clear,” Cornelius said slowly, trying to keep himself from laughing out loud. “Nothing is going to happen in this bed tonight, other than sleeping.”

Augustine threw Cornelius a hurt look. “Obviously,” he said and there was a touch of sadness there that Cornelius couldn’t parse out. There were no other excuses—Cornelius would have to talk to Augustine about what he wanted in the morning. But, nothing could be done about it now and so Cornelius followed Augustine’s lead and walked over to the bed as well.

He was a little nervous, getting under the covers. He hadn’t shared a bed with someone that he’d had romantic feelings for in a very long time. But getting under the covers, turning out the light, and having Augustine next to him felt _right_ and made him happy. He hoped that when they did talk in the morning, they were on the same page. That this was something that could be repeated. More than once.

After a few seconds in the darkness, Augustine rolled over, next to Cornelius, close enough that his back was pressed to Cornelius’s side. Taking a deep breath, Cornelius rolled over, spooning Augustine and let his arm curl around Augustine.

“Good night, Augustine.”

“Good night.”

When Cornelius woke up in the morning, a perfect warmth lay against him, Augustine breathing in slowly and deeply in the same position that he’d been in when Cornelius fell asleep. He was so solid under Cornelius’s arms, his body honed like a weapon, and it felt natural to lie against him like this.

Pressed together, Cornelius felt how soft Augustine’s hair truly was—Augustine always kept his projections so fierce, his hair looked, at times, like it might cut through glass. But here and now, with Augustine asleep, his hair felt like fine silk, smooth and rich where it touched Cornelius’s skin.

Cornelius wondered about other mornings waking up like this—what it would be like to have Augustine’s strength always there to rely upon, to have Augustine a breath away. He thought about how much he wanted to run his fingers through Augustine’s hair, press his head against Augustine’s chest and kiss Augustine’s firm, warm lips.

Eventually, Augustine stiffened beneath Cornelius’s arm as he woke up and absorbed his surroundings. After a second, his body forcefully relaxed, as if following Augustine’s direct orders.

“It’s okay,” Cornelius said. “I’m awake too.”

“Ah,” Augustine said and he slowly turned onto his back, glancing at Cornelius and then looking up at the ceiling. His edges had become undefinably sharper while Cornelius hadn’t been paying attention.

“Do you remember last night?” Cornelius asked when Augustine refrained from saying anything further.

“Most of it,” Augustine said and then winced. “More than perhaps I would really like. Did I, ah, really insist on sleeping in here?”

Cornelius nodded. “You did insist,” he said. “But I wasn’t averse to it.” Augustine swallowed and Cornelius wondered what thoughts ran through his head. Cornelius weighed his next words. “I would not be averse to it happening again, although I would prefer that you not be exceedingly drunk to do so.”

Augustine stilled, his attention wholly focused on Cornelius. Cornelius let all of Augustine’s actions sit in his mind and hoped that he was correctly interpreting the presentation of Augustine’s suit. Slowly, he leaned in, telegraphing his own intent, and then carefully pressed his lips against Augustine’s.

It was the briefest of touches, a mere hint of what a kiss could be, just a brush, and even that was enough to electrify Cornelius’s body.

When Cornelius pulled back, Augustine was looking at him, his eyes wide with shock. Neither of them moved for a long minute and Cornelius mentally switched Augustine’s prior behavior in the category of a good friend. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Augustine beat him to it.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice filled with half-hesitation.

Cornelius nodded. Augustine watched him for another second more and then reached up to run his hands through Cornelius’s hair, gently cupping his head and bringing him down. This time when they kissed, Augustine moved like he meant it, his lips meeting Cornelius’s. Each kiss was better than Cornelius had imagined, bruising pressure followed by tender softness and then caution thrown to the wind once more.

At some point, Cornelius ended up on his back, Augustine above him, his body pressing Cornelius into the mattress, leaving Cornelius completely content, albeit confused when Augustine pulled away after some amount of time.

“And you’re sure?” Augustine asked. “About this? With me?”

“I thought that you said that you were a good investigator,” Cornelius send fondly, making Augustine bristle up.

“A good investigator always verifies their hypothesis,” Augustine said and his voice was teasing, making Cornelius smile even wider.

“In that case, let me ask you this: are you sure that you know what you are walking into?” Cornelius asked. “I come with more than just myself. Many people would prefer to start a relationship without those items.”

“I am not most people,” Augustine said and he leaned in and captured Cornelius’s mouth for another long and satisfying kiss.

“I am well aware,” Cornelius said, panting slightly, when they broke apart the next time. “And I am so glad for it.”


End file.
